The Jotun
by faeriemorgaine
Summary: AU where the Vikings don't fight Dragon because they are very small, and are instead being bombarded by invading Jotun (Frost Giants) of the North. Because of this, they are looking for a miracle that can help them win the war, and when Hiccup meets Jökul Frosti, he eventually discovers he has feelings for him, and thus has to keep him a secret...
1. Chapter 1

_This is an HTTYD/RotG crossover AU where the Vikings don't fight Dragon because they are very small, and are instead being bombarded by invading Jotun (Frost Giants) of the North. Because of this, they are looking for a miracle that can help them win the war, and when Hiccup meets Jökul Frosti, a special Jotun who is capable of flight, he eventually discovers he has feelings for him, and thus has to keep him a secret. But Berk's village is being destroyed during the night on several occasions and the Jotun are to blame… But are they really? Jökul knows what's going on but he refuses to tell Hiccup due to the circumstances of the problem. And cantankerous old Mildew is hell-bent on blaming the Jotun for it…_

_Part 1_

* * *

The isle of Berk is located solidly on the meridian of misery. It is twelve days north of hopeless and a few degrees short of freezing to death. The village perched atop its levels? In a word: 'sturdy'. The people though, are even more so, seeing as they are Vikings and all. But even without considering how charming the Viking demeanor could be, the people of Berk had serious stubbornness issues. However the island itself boasted some nice, unique features. Some of the lovelier aspects included good hunting grounds, fishing, and a charming view of the sunset.

The only trouble were the Jotun.

Most places had simple pests like mice or strange dietary habits. Not Berk. It was like the entire island had plans against the stubborn Vikings who lived there. If the whole island sank, it was said they'd learn to breathe under water before they ever left. But as scrawny Hiccup Horrendous Haddock rushed downstairs towards the door, he could hear the clanging of battle from beyond his house.

The Jotun were back.

Rushing outside, it was a hectic frenzy of everyone moving, running, shouting and loud sounds of battle axes clashing. Thankfully his small stature made it possible to dodge around the blizzards and flying axes and catapulted boulders with ease. He greeted several Vikings who passed him in the fray and had time to say hi without skipping a beat, then headed up to the metalsmith shop where he was supposed to be working.

"Someone get 'im outta here!" boomed the voice of Stoic the Vast, the Chief of their little tribe of Vikings. Hiccup groaned audibly at his father's (yes, father's) disapproving tone as he was pushed off to the Gobber, the large blacksmith with interchangeable hands and a brutish look. He was nice enough, however, and he and Stoic had been friends forever. They said Hiccup's father had defeated a full grown Jotun on the day of his birth and not a soul doubted that fact.

"Ye know ye shouldn't be out there." Gobber was saying in that thick accent of his.

"Oh come on, let me out!" Hiccup protested. "If I capture one of them I'd be so much better off! Think of how much an improvement to my life it would be? I might get a date for Thor's sake!"

Yet Gobber could only sigh and hand him a thick set of axes that needed to be sharpened. "C'mon Heccup, they'd carry ye off." He replied, but the small Viking knew otherwise.

"Me? They wouldn't know what to do with all _this_." He gestured to himself, but Gobber looked on unimpressed.

"They'd use ye as horse fodder." He replied. "Y'know as well as I do that killing one is no easy task, and capturing one is nigh impossible. Even your father's never caught one without having to kill it. Ya canna'e control them, Heccup. You'd be dead before ye even lifted an axe." And then he turned and focused on handing the sharpened blades to the Vikings who came for aid to the shop.

But that didn't matter to him. Oh no. Hiccup would find a way to sneak off. He always did. Because killing them was everything to the people of Berk, and capturing a Jotun would practically make him Berk's hero! Jotun were fierce warriors….. and they always returned to their shores with spoils stolen from the Berk Vikings. If one were to be captured alive, they could easily use them to force the other Frost Giants to do as they ordered. It would make the isle of Berk finally defensible from the Outcasts or other invaders etc.

The Jotun, Frost Giants of legend from the North, were strong- taller than your average Viking, and the Vikings themselves were very tall anyways. (Well… except Hiccup of course. But he was the exception.) They had skin as blue as the icy waters they sailed on and white fur and the leather hide of mysterious large dragons as their only protection from weapons. But they were strong and tough and had little to fear because weapons could not deter them. They were the stuff of legend- it was said that they were rogue gods who hailed from a far off land near the borders of Valhalla and the edge of the world!

But now that that has been said, you must know one other thing. The sole reason Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III wanted to capture a Frost Giant in the first place was because of the encounter he had had not so long before these events.

And to put it bluntly, Hiccup was in dreadful, terrible trouble. From the moment he realized exactly how deep he had become attached, he knew for a fact that his life had become ten times worse than it had before he had ever met the winter spirit.

Okay, you're probably confused by that last bit, but that's the thing- Hiccup had been too up until fairly recently. So let the stage be set, because what follows is most interesting.

The Viking teen was walking through the forest on a cold September evening with Toothless (his rather small, but equally feisty, little black dragon), near dusk when he'd first laid eyes on him: The pale boy with hair like ice who seemed lighter than air. He had been walking "alone" in the first place, because he was not exactly what you would call the most appreciated person on Berk. To be more specific, most of the people his age did not care to be near him and his father just simply did not believe he could ever amount to killing a Frost Giant. He was the outcast; the runt of the litter; the "Hiccup". And so he walked as he often did, by himself with his dragon perched gently on is shoulder, tail curled around his arm for balance as he trekked across the terrain of his homeland.

He had been walking for quite some time, slogging through wetter areas and climbing over large snow drifts that seemed to be getting larger with the way it was still snowing. His feet were cold, but he was a Viking. Cold just didn't mean all that much to him. Not at this point anyways. It would have taken a lot for it to bother the teen, actually. So he let his mind wander as he meandered through the forest, probably subconsciously working off steam without even realizing it. After a good many hours, he had stopped at the large, hidden clearing where he had first found the little dragon that now sat atop his shoulders. It had been warmer weather then, though he tended to over-exaggerate and claim it was a constant gloomy overcast above. Yet unlike most occasions when the clearing held hardly any life other than the occasional bird or rabbit, on this day there was someone there, standing on the frozen mass of the lake that took up a great deal of the centre.

It was a young man! And such an unusual sight to see too. Hiccup crouched low and watched him for a while, fascinated by both his looks (even Jotun did not come purely with the colour of snow white in both hair and skin, did they?) and also his swift motions. He was graceful in a way even the women on Berk tended not to lean towards. Harsh winter climates and various battles with the Jotun, toughing them up, they were as rugged as a lot of them men. To be honest Hiccup had softly questioned to his scaly fiend whether or not he thought the white haired one was male or female, because his movements were very fluid. Toothless, however, could only give him an odd look as if to say 'you are seriously asking me?'. Eventually though he had come to the conclusion that whoever it was, no matter their movements and hair colour, was definitely male. He was not built like any female Hiccup had ever seen anyways. To see him move and dance across the ice beneath the blanket of falling snow was fascinating though, and he could not tear his emerald gaze away.

For a moment, everything seemed frozen in time since almost all sound was being eaten by the snow as it fell. Toothless kept quiet next to Hiccup, and his freckled hand set out to pet the little dragon absently. He was just as riveted as the small Viking at the sight, it would appear, because he did not tear his gaze away either, but tipped his head to the side curiously. Hiccup, watching with rapt fascination, lifted his hand to brush the freshly falling snow off his shoulders and hair. Oh how he wished he hadn't broken his charcoal pencil- then maybe he could sketch just what he was seeing and ask Gothi, the village elder, about who this stranger might possibly be.

He was slender, this strange newcomer to the island- more like Hiccup actually. Whoever he was, if he were of Viking blood, he certainly did not look it. He carried with him a crook like the shepherds who tended sheep, yet there followed with him no animals to lead about. Still, he held it within his hands easily, as if he had had it with him his entire life, smoothly gliding it over the ice of the lake. Perhaps he was drawing along the ice?

Antagonizing moments passed as the stranger tilted his head up from whatever it was he was doing and watched the skies, letting snowflakes dance across his pale skin. Hiccup could see from his odd vantage point that he wore no shoes and little clothes, save for what appeared to be leather frosted with ice around the edges. Wasn't he cold?! Surely the ice and snow should have frostbitten his feet by now, yet they remained just as pale as before, and not blackened or hindered in any way! "It's like he's asking to freeze to death…" Hiccup mumbled incredulously. He was positive this had to be a Jotun, and yet he was far too small to be one! Not to mention Jotun were notably blue skinned, even grey at times… This surely was not one of their kind if he was to go by features alone.

But before Hiccup could let his mind dwell too much on his thoughts, the miracle happened- the stranger shouted something to the winds Hiccup could barely hear in a language he did not understand, and the winds suddenly whisking up around him and lifting him up into the air with the snow! He tapped the strange, crooked end of his crook (or was it a staff?) and ice flourished out of the tip, coating several of the trees, rocks and branches with feathered fragments of ice.

Hiccup's emerald eyes grew wide in realization as the icy-haired boy disappeared over the trees with a faint laugh and a flurry of snowflakes. That boy- no, that Jotun, was no normal Frost Giant. He could FLY! He was one of the few gifted with the flight abilities of the Valkyrie! One of the few Odin must have deemed worthy! Legends spoke of these mystical Frost Giants… they were said to be different from the norm and could fly about the winds like they were snow itself. Some even spoke of tales that the reason the Valkyrie blessed them was because they were so beautiful at birth the mighty Valkyrie had no choice but to acknowledge their grace and gift them such wind wings.

This Jotun, however, this amazing Frost Giant was something truly unique, and Hiccup gasped as he watched him before he disappeared, the laughter echoing in his head. Legends spoke of a singularly gifted Jotun with frost powers like no other who soared the skies with ringing bells of laughter: _Jokul Frosti_. If his suspicions were correct, then he, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III had just witnessed one of the _Gods_, and not just anyone of them! One that the Valkyries blessed!


	2. Chapter 2

_Part 2_

* * *

Jökul Frosti was in terrible, awful trouble, and he would not know it until he was knee-deep into it and unable to dig his way out. But before he had fallen victim to his situation, the Jotun had merely been doing his job. It had started a little while back, on a cold September's evening when the Jotun had glided on the winds and settled himself in the clearing. He had spent the last hour watching his fellow Jotun sailing their ships. They would reach the island within the week, and it was his task to scout ahead since he could fly. He wondered why they always made him do that- he hated it. He just wanted to be left alone, yet his people demanded he assist them because of his 'special talents' because he was apparently not good at much else.

He had scouted ahead of them by a good few days though, and had time to relax. It was easy for him to roam the island unseen- he could fly high above the trees and scout the village during the night when everyone was asleep.

Now, however, he had settled in a rather nicely cut off clearing. There was a pond there, partially frozen, and it was made entirely frozen under the tall Frost Giant's weight. Okay well he was not actually very tall for a Frost Giant. The flight-gifted ones never were, so he was fairly small compared to his people, yet a decent height around humans nonetheless.

He stood there in this clearing for a good long while, just staring up at the beautifully falling snow. Oh how he loved the snow, and not just because that was what he grew up in. It was calming and nice, a kind of gentle stillness h liked. The Jotun was not particularly fond of people… any people. Other Jotun, Vikings, animals…. He just preferred to be alone. It made things easier. It made his scouting job easier. He wouldn't have to deal with them making fun of his height, or saying he was too carefree. No one to tell him he was only good for scouting.

Jökul was very much content to just stand there in blissful ignorance at his secret onlooker. He was tired of scouting anyways. He would much rather decorate something with ice and keep to his thoughts. After a long moment he heaved a soft sigh and opened his eyes. Muttering to himself, he called down the wind to catch hold of, and when it blew towards him, he caught it and lifted, his heart soaring. He loved to fly- it was absolutely perfect!

But he could not shake the feeling that he had missed something. Like he'd overlooked something important…

But regardless of that fact, he chose to ignore the feeling and sped off to sit out his remaining time on the island watching the sun set, before he would return to his people and report back the news of their defenses etc. He liked to pointedly leave out details….. He didn't want the Vikings being slaughtered or anything. After all it was HIS people taking from them. They weren't defenseless but if he gave away all the information he'd gathered they would be sitting ducks to a bunch of Frost Giants who wanted to kill them and take their lands. Quite frankly Jökul was astonished that they hung around so much. He was sure they would leave at some point, but they appeared to be decidedly stubborn. He sighed and shook his head. Of course they were stubborn. It was a Viking trait it appeared, and something they were just born with.


	3. Chapter 3

_Part 3_

* * *

Suffice it to say, no one believed Hiccup when he insisted that he had seen Jökul Frosti. He WAS a Hiccup after all- the 'runt of the litter' so to speak, and even though he has done so much for his people, inventing things (albeit some of them didn't always work…) some ideas just didn't manifest in the other Viking's brains. After all, if anyone should get to see a God firsthand it was Hiccup's father Stoic, or someone vastly brave and amazing like Astrid. Though in all honesty Hiccup's bravery and courage outweighed many of the Vikings on the entire island of Berk, they constantly seemed to ignore that, and even he was not really aware of that fact. They just refused to believe he had the capability or was in the Gods' graces enough to physically see one of them. For why would a God show himself to the Viking who wasn't even really good at _being _a Viking? The other villagers did not seem to care that he was fairly good at tactics, because none of them would listen long enough to hear them. They did not care that he was clever enough to invent useful things, because some of them still had kinks to work out….. and they did not care to stop themselves from pointing out how much of a nuisance he was.

When he had rushed back home with Toothless on his shoulders and ran into the house and up the stairs to grab at the broken charcoal pencil and try his best at scribbling down the images in is brain, no one bat an eyelash. Yet his spirits could not be dampened because now he had proof and he grinned. "Hey bud, we definitely saw Jökul Frosti." He chuckled. Toothless purred as his Viking owner scratched his scales. "I'll bet you anything that if I captured him, dad would finally see I'm a capable Viking!" And so he had set up his thrilling plan- he would capture this Frost Giant and bring him back to his father. All that was left now was to come up with a contraption that could down a flying foe…

For the next few days following, though he returned to the spot he had seen the wintery one 'dance', Hiccup could not find him again. The mysterious God just would not return, much to his dismay. He had assumed the Frost Giants would make their rounds to the isle, but it seemed to be taking longer than per the norm. He suspected this was because of the large thunderheads looming in the distance- even Jotun were stopped by ominous onslaught of foul weather when at sea. This gave his father time to prepare the village for any attacks that may or may not come in the near or not so near future. It also gave Hiccup time to prepare the device he would use to capture the airborne.

It was nearing late October when the Jotun's ships actually reached the Isle of Berk. They were late, but they did not care. If anything it made their tempers more ferocious. They sailed their ships to march upon the shores of Berk, determined to invade the isles from the lower banks and capture the ports so as to try and cut them off to steal their food and supplies. Hiccup was traipsing the perimeter; the other Vikings already scattered to smoke the invaders out quite literally, their torches easy to see from the higher spots of the island. But the Jotun seemed to be countering the fire barricades with glacial prowess.

At this point, Hiccup was surveying the scenes, supposedly making absolutely sure everything was going according to his father's plan, yet he was really on the prowl for any sign of Jökul Frosti. He was SUPPOSED to be in the shop….. out of trouble. But he had once again snuck away to try and find the mysterious Frost Giant. His lie about scouting was the ruse he would use should anyone spot him, though he was positive it wasn't going to be believed no matter what he had said.

The attacking Jotun were being pushed back by the damage they had done, and were either boarding their ships or pressing on. From what he could see up near the ridge where the rocks cracked out past the river mark, they had set up borders of defense between the icier glaciers and the mountainside where it was less frosted. Just as planned, _whoopee_.

He circled back down, hiking to the outer rims, making sure they held no backups to their fleet and grinned to himself when he did not see any. This carried on for another hour, the sounds of battle cries and metal against metal reverberating around the craggy rocks and forestry of the island. And then he saw it- a flash of white darting across the sky. He had seen birds being used as message carriers for the invaders and was not going to let any more escape. "Yes!" His eyes narrowed as he reached to his side for the small makeshift weapon he'd had to make bigger since he couldn't throw the tiny original model. It was two rocks tied on each end of a long winding rope, and he took hold of a branch, pulling it back as far as he could, anchoring the thing own. Beside him, Toothless, for as small as he was, climbed do past Hiccup's shoulder and tried to tug on the branch too. When he released it, it sent the rocks and rope spiraling into the air towards what he was absolutely positive was Jökul Frosti, and he could see it strike him dead on. "YES!" He pumped his fist into the air in total excitement. He'd hit him!. "Why is it no one ever sees that?" He rolled his eyes was happy until he saw the struggling Jotun falling somewhere off into the distance. Letting out another groan, he dragged his hands down his face. "Oh great; JUST perfect! I have the best luck don't I? There he goes! Landing right in the middle of the woods! What do I have to do to get this to stop happening to me?!" Well it wasn't like this happened often, but his inventions did seem to backfire or cause problems a lot….


	4. Chapter 4

_Part 4_

* * *

Jökul whirled through the air, a soft mutter of distaste on his lips. He hated to see his people acting so contemptible- their culture was an old one, and yet they resorted to such horrible acts as raiding this little island. It wasn't their fault of course, and as such, Jack did as he was told. But as the smoke billowed from the beaches, trying to drive them away from the ice, he could only laugh. That would only work for so long before they managed to get to the village and actually pillage. The Vikings just didn't seem to get that he and his Jotun brothers were only there for their food and supplies. If lives were shed, they didn't care (well except for Jökul of course, but he was a free spirit anyways) because they believed that as Frost Giants they outranked them in the importance of life.

He swooped lower, scanning through the trees. No one he could see. Just another dull, routine search. He was supposed to be looking for stray Vikings to see if there were scouts but so far he had caught sight of none. Not a single soul appeared to be surveying the scenes, which was odd, but who was he to question the inner workings of the Viking mindset? His pace was thus leisurely as flurries of snow drifted behind him. About half an hour in, he heard a whizzing noise and scanned his surroundings, shocked to see something lengthy- rope?!- careening his way. He gasped, trying to deflect it with is crook but it only seemed to entangle him worse, the large rocks tied to the end looping around him wildly in the air. He twisted and made to free himself, but could not keep himself straight enough to prevent more entangling. Struggling and thrashing, the Frost Giant yelped and was struck forcibly in the head with one of the rocks, quickly losing his balance in the air and tumbling down, down, down, the icy glaciers below him which gave way to a crevice dug into its cold depths. He struggled to break free of the restraints, but his arms were bent and tangled, his legs wrapped up tight and he gasped, sputtering a curse as he could not control his decent!

Panic was filling his mind- someone had fired this at him! A Viking had somehow seen him and had thrown this contraption at him in the hopes that he would fall! He huffed and tried to call out but the other Jotun could not hear them from their current locations. His voice carried on the wind and disappeared before it could reach his companion's ears. The rope was digging into his skin as he thrashed about, and it tightened around his neck. Choking, he could see the world coming closer by the second, his heart beating fast in his ears and his eyes wide. By Odin, he was surely going to die!

With a pained cry of agony, his head collided with the ice and he barely had enough time to register himself hitting the ground after harsh icy scraping, before he slumped in a heap. His head was spinning, his ears ringing. He could feel something warm against the ice- it was his blood! He whimpered, trying in vain to struggle some more and praying his darkening vision would not take him into unconsciousness. If he was trapped here too long, the other Jotun would think him dead- and he was terrified of being left here! What if he died out here all entangled and alone?! Or worse! What if a Viking found him! He would surely be killed or worse! He dared not think about that, but as he gasped for breath and felt himself sinking, he could not help but drift into unconsciousness with those thoughts at the forefront of his mind.

Darkness took him….. It swam through his vision and mind like a wave crashing upon the shore. He could register nothing as he waded in the pool of darkness for what seemed like an eternity…


	5. Chapter 5

_Part 5_

* * *

Hiccup maneuvered through the thick, still-falling snow, various furs wrapped tightly around him in unadulterated aggravation. It would have been easier to let the irritating Thorston twins go hunting for it, but they couldn't see the bright side of a barn if they were looking at it, not to mention they already thought he was insane and would never listen. His cousin Snotlout wasn't the best choice either, because when it came to brains, Hiccup was positive he had none. Astrid, tough as she was, would have been best, but she had a tendency to hit him whenever she thought he was being stupid. Since she seemed to think that his talk of seeing Jökul Frosti was stupid, the past few weeks had been hell escaping her wrath.

Hiccup could not see anything in the snowcapped trees. Trudging for hours, he gave up a long time ago trying to navigate (his map useless in the falling snow since it was beginning to stick to the pages), and let his feet and senses lead him 'round the island. One might think him lost, but he knew the area so well it didn't matter. All that was on his mind was the fact that he was cold and growing more irritable the longer he did not find the fallen Jotun. After a long time, he finally groaned in defeat. "This is getting me nowhere… Wherever he landed, he's probably escaped by now." He heaved a great sigh and around his neck, Toothless let out a mall yip, as if encouraging him not to give up. "I know buddy, I know."

And it was in that moment that he happened to look. Over the rocky crags of the hillside, he moved along the rim until it descended down into the depths below, something visible just beneath his sight and staining the ice red. "Oh Gods- there's someone down there!" He gasped, getting on his hands and knees, his boots scraping against the ice. "They must have slipped… Or-" He paused and his eyes widened. No. It couldn't be…. Could it…? He moved towards the bag he kept hooked at his side and retrieved a small bit of rope, anchoring it around the trunk of the nearest tree. "Odin, pray I don't slip-" And he used the anchored rope to slide down into the icy ravine. Traveling farther and farther, he definitely tried to be careful, but at the moment Hiccup was mostly concerned with one thing: the person who was bleeding beneath him at the bottom of the glacial ravine. When he landed, his eyes widened in a mix of absolute horror and (though he hated to admit), triumph.

There before him, trapped and bound inside the thick ropes in a position that left his arms stuck and unable to struggle free to move the broken crook which dug into his side, was Jökul Frosti. Up close, he was beautiful: snow white hair that glinted like silver behind an icy pool of blood, and skin a very pale colour, tinted with blue beyond the deep red cuts the rope had dug into his skin. Furs that wrapped his shoulders were now tattered and torn from the struggle he'd had as he'd become entangled in the rope. There were other cuts as well, along his arms, legs and neck, and anywhere else the rope had dug harshly into the skin.

Hiccup paled…. All triumph was lost to his person as he realized that this Jotun, this god of legends, was struggling to even breathe. His pure white hair was tinted pink where not red from having been scraped and cut into bleeding on the way down and it seemed only the sheer cold of the ice was preventing him from bleeding to death. He was unconscious, from what Hiccup could see, gasping in breaths past the entangled rope around his neck. Taking a step back, Hiccup felt the need to run. This was entirely his fault…. "I did this…." He mumbled softly, guilt filling him to his core. He thought about running, about leaving him and not looking back, but he just couldn't…

He quickly knelt by his side and tried to rouse him, intending for him not to move too harshly what with his injuries and the possibility of the crook stabbing into him. He was entangled pretty badly in the straps around his body; one of his arms was anchored behind him at an unnatural angle. It had to be immensely painful. "Hey-" He gently shook the Frost Giant's shoulder, almost afraid to touch him since he _was_ a _God_, but swiftly ignoring those precautions because the other needed his help. It was then he realized just how young he appeared. He looked maybe in his late teens, lean as Hiccup but much lankier nonetheless. For a wise and powerful god of legends, he looked like an innocent kid.

Finally, after agonizing seconds, the pale, injured boy stirred with a groan and a gasp, still terribly dizzy and disoriented. "_Nnng-!_" Hiccup watched as he began to process what was happening, the Jotun 'staggering back' (more like jerked back) suddenly as best he could in frantic, bound wiggling. He grimaced and tried to curl his legs up to cradle his side and slid against the back wall of ice as best he was able. His face betrayed the pain through such a harsh expression as he felt a jolt of electric agony practically rip through his entire body. He was disoriented, by his sluggish movements and completely incapable of defending himself. "_Who are you…!?_ _What do you want with me?! Ahh!" _ He muttered softly, slurring his words, but it hurt to talk and another pinprick of fire shot through his side and straight into his hammering head.

Hiccup struggled to understand what he was saying, recognizing some of the words, but it made little sense to him as the Jotun language was foreign "I don't understand…" He said softly, reaching out a gentle, guilty hand. "Please, I'm a friend; I only want to help…." The other looked up and squinted, trying to understand as well, past glassy eyes the colour of crystal blue surrounded in midnight black.

"'Help?'" He asked, recognizing the word. "_Please_ help _me…_" Though most of the words were still not getting through, Hiccup understood enough to comprehend and nodded his head, reaching for his knife. Jökul backed up again, squirming and shaking his head slightly, panic in his blackened eyes. Yet the exertion and loss of blood made him weak and he slumped against the ground, panting again and closing his eyes tight from the squeezing pain. OH how he wished he could be out of these bonds….

"Hold still, I'm going to get you out of there." Hiccup assured, and he made to hook his knife around the Frost Giant's bonds.

Yet this time, Jökul did not understand enough of the words to allow Hiccup to take hold and resisted, shying away when he tried to take hold. He shook his head and, curling his legs up, made a soft noise of discontentment and pleading sounds. "Um…. Okay, uh… Let me help you-" He said slowly, and gestured to himself, then to the other's injuries, then to the rope and hen to his knife. He looked at him in earnest. "Please…."

The Jotun with hair like snow didn't need to understand the words to comprehend the soft, pleading tone, and relaxed in a heap. Even if he was going to die, he couldn't protest any more. His energy was gone and he was so very tired…. All he wanted to do was get back into his icy room on Jotunheim and sleep beneath thick furs where Vikings, even small ones, did not threaten his life.

Hiccup wasted no time in freeing his captive, sawing the rope off quickly, until he could be free enough to get out, but making the rope still useable. He then tied the rope around Jökul's hips (just about the only place Hiccup was sure it was not going to harm or bruise) then handed the opposing end to the dragon who had been watching curiously through the whole ordeal. "Toothless, please fly this up and attach it to something that won't break with force." He pleaded. The dragon, understanding his master's request, flew up out of the ravine and secured it around a tree and back around itself with the huge rock keeping it secured.

With a sharp tug, Hiccup groaned- he was not strong enough for this, but he HAD to get Jökul Frosti to safety, or at least somewhere where his father would not find him… Wow this was going to be tough, but compared to hiding the Frost Giant in a village of people who wanted them dead or used for warfare, climbing out of there would be no problem! Toothless flew closer and tried to tug at the rope, and it was a nice effort so Hiccup encouraged him as he forced himself to heave both he and Jökul up and out of the ravine.

By the time he had finished, his arms felt like lead and he was exhausted, but Jökul was limply watching, half paying attention since he was drifting in and out of his delirious, blood-deprived state.

"I hate to say it, but I have to get you back to the village…." Hiccup muttered, seeing the ice-boy's head lolling to the side and his eyes fluttering like they would close any second. "It is too cold for you to last, winter god or not…." He decided, and lay him down. "Okay, how to transport you…." He groaned, the snow still falling, but he turned Jökul over to make sure the cloak was strong enough- yes, Jökul's fur cloak was large enough and thick enough to drag through the snow fairly quickly. So he took hold of his shoulders and began to drag him. Thank ODIN he knew every shortcut on the island, because had he not, and the Jotun would probably be dead….


End file.
